Let's Give It a Shot
by NurseKelly
Summary: Originally called "The Dangers of Getting Shots" by Swishy Willow Wand, who has graciously entrusted me with her baby to make sure it gets finished. The war is over. Madge Undersee is a nurse in D13's hospital wing. Gale Hawthorne is a decorated Mockingjay solder, who assigned to D13. What happens when members of the Hawthorne family require medical care? GADGE. Post MJ AU
1. Chapter 1

**Let's Give It a Shot**

A/N: This story, originally called "The Dangers of Getting Shots" was written by the brilliant author Swishy Willow Wand. She has graciously entrusted me with her baby to make sure it gets finished. (I want to recognize and thank Jeeno, creator of the THG Fic Adoption program on Tumblr, who made this all possible.) I've tweaked Swishy's original chapter and added my own spin. It will ultimately include several more chapters. Thanks to my betas, RoryFaller and Belle453. You ladies are in inspiration.

_**Disclaimer: **_I do not own the HG trilogy or any of the characters created by Suzanne Collins, although I sure wish I did.

**Chapter One: Immune**

_**Immunization**__: the process by which an individual's immune system becomes fortified against an agent._

"I hate getting shots," a little voice whines petulantly near his hip. Posy Hawthorne glares up at him, the Posy Pout fully engaged.

Gale laughs. "Shots aren't all that bad," he tells her, tugging gently on her dark ponytail. He doesn't like shots either. Gale hates them, actually; he doesn't think it's healthy to poke things into his body that don't belong, thank you very much. But District 13 requires different shots for every age bracket and now that Posy is six, she's due for her booster shots.

It's been one year since the war ended, but his mother hasn't gotten approved to leave the underground world yet. Gale thinks she might secretly be scared to return to District 12 after seeing it burn, and he doesn't blame her. However, Gale's younger siblings VERY much want to leave the underground bunker. At ages 14 and 12, Rory and Vick aren't any happier about their mother's decision than Posy. So until Hazelle decides to leave, they all must abide by the rules.

Which, at the moment, means shots for the gray-eyed girl at his side, looking up at him with so much trust that it breaks his heart — he remembers someone else who trusted him that much, he remembers what he did to her, he remembers—

"Really?" Posy tugs his hand, demanding his attention once more. He is pulled from his dark memories by her hopeful smile and he grins down at her, swinging the little hand that tightly clings to his. He squats down, looking into her earnest eyes.

"Maybe for these District 13 babies," he tells her, rolling his eyes playfully, "but you're from District _12_, Pose. You're tough." The little girl beams.

"I'm tough," she repeats stubbornly. He laughs again; the only time he doesn't hate himself is when he's with her and the rest of his family, too distracted that his brothers and sister will never face another Reaping or be forced to work in the mines or hunt illegally or die of starvation to truly loathe himself like he should. He wants to wrap himself up in them forever.

He stands back up and pulls her toward the medical wing allocated for things like this, routine visits that have no sense of urgency. The receptionist reclines at her desk, idly flipping through a Capitol fashion magazine. Her shiny nametag bears the name Fawn. He can tell she's a native, her mousy brown hair and thin skin give her away instantly, but she flushes when she looks up at him and he fidgets uncomfortably. He remembers looks like that from his slag heap days; he's been getting those a lot lately, ever since the end of the war declared him some kind of hero. He's immune to those feelings, because love is a complication he just doesn't need right now. "Hi, there," Fawn looks up at him with big, brown eyes reminiscent of her animal kingdom namesake. "Can I help you?"

"Er…we're here for Posy Hawthorne's appointment," he mumbles, not looking at her directly. Fawn sits straight and fluffs her hair casually, trying to catch his eyes, huffing after a moment when she realizes he's not interested. She thumbs through a thick black book on her desk filled with names and times and procedures.

"Second room on the left," Fawn tells him haughtily, pointing down the hallway. Posy sticks her tongue out at her. She has definitely been spending too much time with Vick.

Gale tugs Posy down the hallway into a sterile, white room that makes him uncomfortable. He wrinkles his nose at the antiseptic smell and lifts the girl onto the examination table. Her short legs dangle down and she kicks them out in front of her before looking at him. Posy has a dangerous look in her eyes, the one that she gets when she doesn't want to go to sleep at her bedtime.

"I don't think I need shots," Posy announces abruptly, giving Gale the most serious look a six year old can muster before jumping off the bed and walking to the door. He snorts and swoops her up—and _goodness,_ she's almost getting too heavy to pick up much anymore. Gale thinks it's a wonderful problem for a girl from the Seam to have.

"Oh no, you don't," he tells her firmly, plopping her back up on the table and tickling her sides as the paper crinkles beneath her from her wiggling. Posy squeals like she always does, so loud it makes his ears hurt sometimes, and he doesn't know that the door has opened until it shuts loudly. Gale turns around.

A pretty blonde woman holds a thin folder, peering at the name as if for the first time. "Hawthorne?" she reads incredulously, before looking up quickly—her eyes dart to Posy and then swiftly lock on him. Her blue eyes flash with recognition.

"Undersee?" Gale tries to remember the last time he saw Madge Undersee; it was in District 12, the night of the bombing. The tenuous truce they had formed while coaching Peeta and Katniss for the Quarter Quell dissolved as soon as the train left the station. They barely acknowledged each other, except for the night they fled to the Meadow with the rest of District 12. He hasn't thought of her much since then.

The corners of her mouth curve down in a slight frown. "Hawthorne," she repeats, this time a cool acknowledgement. Her gaze switches to Posy and a smile lights up her face. "You must be Posy," she says brightly, walking over to the wide eyed girl on the table.

The little girl looks suspicious, and Gale's not sure if he should be proud or embarrassed. "Who're you?"

She smiles. "I'm Madge. I'm from District 12, just like you!" Posy perks up at this and Madge lights up again. "Are you ready to get your shots?"

Posy's eyebrows furrow. "I'm tough," she tells her. Madge snorts, rolling her eyes at Gale.

"Family trait, I guess," she mutters. He doesn't say anything, too surprised by her sudden appearance to snipe back. He takes in her worn gray dress, a standard issue number that has a frayed hem and a little tear in one of the pockets, the long blonde hair that she wears in a tight bun, except for a few stubborn strands that have escaped. She looks tired.

"What are you doing here," he asks after a long moment. Posy looks bored and confused that the attention is no longer on her.

Madge gives him a wry look. "Giving your sister a booster shot," she answers him drily, walking over to a white cabinet and pulling out supplies.

He looks at her doubtfully. "They let just anybody do that?" Even with her back to him he can sense her annoyance at his question—her shoulders stiffen and the muscles in her neck twitch slightly. He sees one of her hands curl into a fist. He grins a little; different setting, different dress, same old Madge Undersee. He was always able to get her hackles up, something he took distinct pride in back in the day.

She continues to organize her supplies, not even turning around. "I've been training for two years, Hawthorne," Gale gets the feeling there's a ruder name she would be calling him if his baby sister wasn't here. "I'm a registered nurse now and I am perfectly able to give shots."

Gale is mildly impressed with the nurse's moxy, but he hides it with a smirk.

Posy interrupts, clearly ready to be the focus again. "I don't need a shot," she informs Madge determinedly. Madge turns around and grins at the little girl; Gale doesn't think he's ever seen Madge look like that. Back in 12 she was always cautious and quiet, usually oblivious to his presence and immune to his charms. The only emotion Madge ever showed him was anger at his deliberate provocation. In the last two minutes, he's seen the blonde smile more than she did the entire time he knew her in District 12; he notices how much she's grown up, how confident she seems.

"Are you sure?" Her fingers slip into her right pocket and pull out a purple lollipop. Posy's eyes widen with longing; candy was an unheard of luxury in the Seam, and not exactly a huge commodity in the ever practical District 13. Instinctively, Posy's little hand reaches out, but Madge smoothly pushes the treat back in her pocket. "Sorry, Posy, I can only give candy to little girls who get shots. Oh well." The exaggerated disappointment on Madge's face is comical. She picks up her folder and walks towards the door.

"Wait!" Madge stops and turns around. Posy pokes her bottom lip out, and for a moment looks far too precious to be related to Gale. "I guess I can get a shot."

Madge smiles at her sweetly, and Gale is fascinated—the townie just set a snare, as sure as he did every day in the woods in 12, and Posy walked right into it without even noticing. And six year olds are trickier than rabbits.

"Great!" Madge's enthusiasm is infectious, and Posy beams back at her. Madge walks back over to the counter, brushing by Gale. The room is small and Gale is struck by how delicate she is, how much smaller she is compared to Katniss and his mother. For the first time in a long time, he feels awkward and oafish.

Gale also observes that Madge smells like clean laundry, reminding him of home before the war. If it had ever occurred to him to think of it, he probably would have assumed she smelled like fancy perfume or something else utterly unnatural. It unsettles him that this woman smells like home, even more so when he realizes he's trying to catch a whiff when she walks by him again.

Madge stands directly in front of Posy, giving his little sister a very serious look. They stare at each other for a moment, frightened gray eyes locked on serious blue ones, and Posy looks quite apprehensive now that Madge has the syringe in her gloved hands. Posy gives Gale a panicked look. "I don't want a shot," she repeats, but this time her lip trembles dangerously. _Oh, no_. Gale hates crying, has absolutely no idea what to do with it, and is saved the trouble when Madge reaches out her free hand and squeezes Posy's.

"You just have to be brave, Posy," Madge tells her very seriously. "When you're brave you can do anything, even if it hurts a little." The nurse's blue eyes glance back at Gale, and he's frustrated that she's caught him staring; if she thinks anything of it, she doesn't give it away. She looks back at his sister.

"Gale will be right here to hold your hand, and it will be over before you know it!" Gale nods encouragingly, and suddenly he's on Team Undersee, bizarre twist of fate he never saw coming. He's not even sure she's ever used his first name before until now.

And so Posy, ever a Hawthorne, grips her brother's massive hand with all her six-year-old might and squeezes her eyes tightly closed, not making a sound as Madge quietly goes about her work. Gale can't help but be impressed at the ease with which she works; it's clear she's been doing this for a while now. He takes Madge in for a moment — her eyes are the same bright blue as they were staring at him from her back door, her hair a darker blonde since she's been hidden from the sun for so long. She's lost some of the excess weight she had from so many full meals at the Mayor's house, but she still has curves in all the appropriate places. She is pale except for the slight pink in her cheeks and the splash of freckles across the bridge of her nose. Her white teeth worry her bottom lip as she concentrates on Posy, brow slightly furrowed. She's just as uncomfortably pretty as ever, not that he will ever admit to noticing.

She finishes, squeezing Posy's knee. "All done," she says warmly, and Posy's gray eyes flicker back open to watch Madge put a bandage across her tiny bicep. "Not so bad, huh?"

Posy's smile is more like a grimace, but she shakes her head. "I'm tough," she says once again, and Madge laughs.

"Yes you are!" She pulls the lollipop back out from the pocket with the small tear, and Posy's eyes widen eagerly. Her hand shoots out to grab it, and then freezes in midair. She looks at Gale cautiously.

"Can I have it?" She knows without thinking that he doesn't like free things, doesn't like gifts or charity. Madge frowns slightly, and Gale reaches out to tug his sister's dark ponytail again.

"I reckon you earned it," he says with a grin; Posy snatches the candy and quickly unwraps it, stuffing it into her mouth as if Gale will change his mind if she takes too long. She is instantly lost to a sugary world, sucking happily, no longer aware that Gale and Madge even exist.

And so the two adults stare at each other for a moment, even though there is no longer an excuse to stay in the room. For a second the appraising look she gives him reminds him of the receptionist outside, only this one is far less unwelcome. Awkwardness fills the air and Madge's eyes narrow at him. "I didn't know you were still in 13," she tells him, trying to sound nonchalant.

"Keeping tabs on me, Undersee?" Gale isn't sure where the teasing, flirtatious tone comes from, but it makes her blush a little and he decides he might have to use it with her more often. He shrugs. "My family still lives down here, and I'm stationed here for a while." He doesn't tell her that this posting, while cushy, is unwelcomed. Gale would rather be in battle so he doesn't have time to think about what has happened, what he's done. He literally hadn't taken a day off since the war ended and the military doctor thinks he might be suffering from some kind of post traumatic stress, or some crap like that.

She nods and looks at him for a moment longer, then stands up. "Well, I should—" she grabs Posy's file and gestures toward the door, looking unsure of herself for a moment. Gale wonders if she's as confused by their interaction as he is; he definitely doesn't remember ever being remotely interested in Madge Undersee back when they were just kids. He's not sure the same can still be said.

The soldier stands up to his full height and he is once again struck by how tiny Madge is in comparison to his own muscular, 6 foot, 3 inch frame . Posy follows him, jumping off the table and looking up at him expectantly. The lollipop is still in her mouth and her lips are turning purple; he can't help but laugh at her, and she giggles too. He grabs her sticky hand and looks back at Madge, who is staring at their clasped hands with an uncharacteristically wistful look on her face that she immediately shakes off as soon as she sees that he's looking. She bends down until she is on Posy's level.

"It was nice to meet you, Posy," she says, her smile full and pretty. Posy practically melts; he can tell that she idolizes the blonde already. She gives her a toothy purple grin and a hug.

Madge stands back up and smoothes her worn gray dress, looking back up at Gale. "Hawthorne," she says, nodding at him before turning and walking to the door.

He calls her back without thinking, "Undersee?" She turns slightly, raising an eyebrow at him. He smirks. "Pretty dress."

She rolls her eyes and scoffs at him, but he doesn't think he's imagining the way she blushes or the small smile on her face as she walks out the door without another word. Posy looks up at him curiously, annoyingly observant for such a small girl. He swings her little hand between them and pulls her to the door.

"Let's go home, Pose."

He can't help but wonder as they head out of the small room, towards Fawn, the flirty receptionist and out of the hospital wing, if he will see Madge Undersee again.

He kind of hopes so.

Madge sighs as she hands the file to Fawn for filing _eventually_—office work, such as filing patient folders, is nowhere near as high on Fawn's priority list as manicuring her dagger-like nails. And flirting with handsome visitors to the office, how could Madge forget that? Fawn's days at the clinic were numbered, but the reception desk was a like a revolving door. Madge doesn't bother to get attached to the receptionists, or much of anyone else for that matter. She is alone and she is better off that way, right?

The two very dissimilar women watch the soldier and his sister walk through the waiting room, hand in hand. Posy is still gleefully sucking on the candy from Madge, yet she manages to keep up a steady stream of conversation. Gale's body language is relaxed and he sports a beatific smile. Madge smiles at the obvious bond between the soldier and the little girl, Fawn drools because his uniform accented his "nice ass" as Fawn would say. Madge can read Fawn like a book and she snickers to herself, but she can't say that Fawn is wrong: he does have a very fine butt and his chest isn't too shabby either.

Back in 12, Madge never paid Gale much attention, because it was as if they were from two different worlds. Aside from Katniss and the strawberries, Madge and Gale had little interaction. Madge prided herself with the knowledge that she was one of the few women in the District who was immune to the handsome hunter's charms. He was as arrogant as he was handsome back then, and she just couldn't be bothered_. I shouldn't be bothered now,_ she thinks.

When Posy sees Madge at the desk, she suddenly runs over to her, dragging her brother behind her. "Miss Madge, I have a very important question for you," Posy says as she lets go of Gale's hand and positions herself directly in front of Madge. "Gale says I gotta get another shot next year, but I say you're so good I don't ever need another one," Posy says. Madge gently kneels down to Posy's level and shakes her head. "I'm afraid Gale's right, Posy," she whispers.

The child looks thoughtful, her enthusiasm momentarily dampened. "Well, I still don't wanna, but I will if you give it to me. Deal?" Posy solemnly states, sticking out her very sticky hand for Madge to shake. "Deal," Madge gravely intones. Posy's smile returns and it is infectious. Madge knows she hasn't smiled this much in a very long time and it feels good.

Meanwhile, Fawn has relaunched her campaign of flirtation with Gale, who momentarily looks like a deer caught in the headlights of an armored tank. Gale somehow manages to extricate himself from Fawn, whose parting shots are as unsuccessful as her initial salvo. "Well, we had better get going, Posy," Gale says, desperately eyeing the door.

"Thank you again, Miss Madge. This is the bestest lolly EVER," Posy says. She enthusiastic hugs Madge yet again, this time leaving a sticky purple spot on her the front of the thin, gray dress, and even stickier purple handprints on the back. Madge didn't know if it was her bedside manner or the candy, but Posy is leaving happier than she was when she came in. Madge decides that needing to wash her uniform tonight is worth it. Madge is happier, too, but she can't put her finger on just why.

Posy whispers in her ear, "Me and Gale think you're way prettier than that lady." Madge is momentarily stunned—Gale Hawthorne said something nice about me? She nervously looks up at Gale, who offers her a hand to help her up from her kneeling position. Madge observes how nicely her small hand fits in his large one and how gently he helps her up. She gives him a tentative smile, which he returns with equal caution before he beats a hasty retreat with Posy.

"Well, he looks like a good father, even if he is full of himself," snorts Fawn, still smarting from Gale's immunity to her charms. "Cocky bastard," she mumbles.

Madge doesn't bother to correct Fawn regarding Posy and Gale's relationship, but she needs to comment on the last part of the rejected receptionist's observation.

"I used to think so too, but not anymore," Madge says quietly.

###


	2. Chapter Two: Stretch or Taut

**Chapter Two: Stretch or Taut**

_**A/N: **_Thanks to RoryFaller and Belle543and for their support and betas. As always, thank you to Swishy Willow Wand for her brilliant initial idea.

_**Disclaimer: **_I do not own the HG trilogy or any of the characters created by Suzanne Collins, although I sure wish I did.

**Tetanus**: (from Ancient Greek: _tetanos_ "taut", and _teinein_ "to stretch") is a medical condition characterized by a prolonged contraction of skeletal muscle fibers.

The departure of Fawn the Flirty receptionist was met with a sigh of relief and a hearty round of applause. Fawn did manage to snag herself a man, an electronics engineer from District Three. Ira was a regular at the medical center and his file was as thick as Madge's hand. The balding hypochondriac was thoroughly smitten with his "little sparkplug" and got Fawn a job as a receptionist in his division. Fawn gave no notice when she left, which thrilled the rest of the staff. Her time at the medical center was brief and she would not be missed.

That was, until the arrival of Mona the Miserable receptionist. With her questionable personal hygiene, grating voice and sour disposition, Mona made Fawn look like Employee of the Year and everyone missed Fawn very much. At least Fawn was pleasant and got _some_ work done, whereas Mona's main activities were snarling at patients, criticizing staff, agonizing over her latest imagined ailment and analyzing her last fight with her on-again-off-again boyfriend. Those activities only occurred when she took a break from complaining about…everything. The coffee. The room temperature. The width of the desk. The firmness of the chair. The color of the waiting room. The smell of the copier. The texture of the paper. Nothing was off limits and she irritated everyone, especially Madge.

* * *

Madge liked to think that she was a tolerant human being. She was patient. She was kind. She was willing to cut someone a break if they were having a bad day. However, the day Mona complained about Madge "coddling the patients" was the last straw. Mona was easily the most wretched human being Madge had ever met and her blood pressure skyrocketed as soon as she heard Mona's nasal whine. The medical center was a far cry from a calm and therapeutic place of healing and Madge's nerves were shot.

It was the end of a very long week for the entire staff. There was an overabundance of patients and the staff members were working 12 hour days. Mona reluctantly agreed to stay late, triggering new complaints about her fibromyalgia and bunions. Four more fun filled hours to spend with Mona not answering the phones or checking the patients in. _At least she converts air to carbon dioxide_, Madge thought.

The longer work hours gave Mona extra time to ramp up the tension in the office, which appeared to be her newest diversion from actually doing her job. Her first week, she gave everyone "pet names." The pet name she bestowed upon Madge was "Blondie," which was one of the less obnoxious ones she gave out. Even so, it set Madge's teeth on edge. In general, she hated nicknames. Her entire life, all she ever wanted to be called was Madge.

Mona now criticized each and every member of the nursing staff. Pluto's charts were messy. Lucina didn't spend enough time with patients; Madge spent too much time with them. Phoebe and Calliope were not speaking to each other because Mona told Phoebe that Calliope said she was fat. Juno wasn't talking to anyone because…well, no one knew why Juno wasn't talking to anyone because JUNO WASN"T TALKING TO ANYONE. Neptune was the only member of the staff who could do no wrong, but that was only because he was fairly new. By Friday morning, the tension was as high as one of Effie Trinket's wigs and Madge's mood that day was as foul as Mona's body odor.

It didn't help matters that the day held special significance for Madge. Had the District 12 mayor not died in the bombing of the District, that day would have been James Undersee's 65 birthday. Madge was especially close to her father and she felt his loss keenly. Maia Donner Undersee was bedridden and heavily sedated for the majority of her daughter's life, effectively leaving James Undersee to raise Madge on his own. He doted on his only child and spoiled her where he could, frequently bringing her ribbons and trinkets when he was forced to travel to the Capitol. While her father wasn't an overly affectionate man, he always seemed to know when Madge needed a hug and she really needed one right now. She seriously doubted if anyone would ever care that much about her again.

That morning, Madge's very last ribbon from her father unraveled to the point where it was now unwearable. Somehow she managed to stuff down the sob that threatened to escape from her chest and gently placed the frayed remnants of the light blue silk ribbon in a small box on her dresser. Madge was no stranger to putting her own feelings aside and doing her duty. Today her duty was taking care of the sick men, women and children of District 13, so she tied her hair back with a standard issue plain brown hair elastic and headed out the door.

* * *

Treating a hypochondriac was very different from working with one for five days a week and, in the four weeks she had worked in the medical center, Mona had diagnosed herself with no less than 12 rare and deadly diseases. This morning it was the Bubonic Plague. Since Madge had drawn the short straw on Wednesday when Mona was _positive_ that the boil on her butt was really a malignant melanoma, Madge was temporarily off the hook. Neptune was up to bat today, and he would most certainly fall from Mona's good graces today when he told her that she most certainly did not have the Bubonic Plague. Madge overheard Mona say, "Just don't give me to Princess Madge over there," as she launched into a tirade about what an awful nurse Madge was. She plastered on a tight smile and headed in to Exam Room 1 to see her first patient.

* * *

It took a rusty nail for Rory Hawthorne to become the hit of the medical center waiting room. Suddenly, he was surrounded by a group of gorgeous female nursing students who were waiting for their instructor to appear and they thought his injury was fascinating. The teenager, who looked older than his 14 years, loved every minute of it. He couldn't believe his luck when his older brother deposited himself in the far corner of the waiting room and buried his nose in a book.

Gale was just happy that Rory finally relented and agreed to get the tetanus shot. They argued about everything anymore, and the injury was no exception. It had somehow degenerated into the same old accusations from Rory. Stop telling me what to do. You're never here. You don't know any of us anymore. Once again, Hazelle intervened and talked Rory into visiting the medical center.

Once again, Gale's good intentions were misinterpreted. To Rory, it was Gale telling him what to do. To Gale, it was trying to take care of someone he loved more than life itself. The soldier had seen the end result of untreated tetanus and it was the last thing he wanted for his cocky little brother. The lockjaw, muscle spasms, difficulty in swallowing, fevers, sweating, and racing heart rate—tetanus wasn't pretty. _Although the lockjaw might shut him up for two seconds_, he thought.

Gale and Rory hadn't been getting along lately, their relationship deteriorating dramatically over the last year. The usual teenage angst bullshit, the counselor for their housing sector had called it. Not that Gale was ever a usual teenager or had the luxury of behaving like one. He loved his brother, but he resented that Rory didn't appreciate how good he had it. His life would be so much easier than Gale's, but all Rory did was complain about being underground. The kid was careless and sloppy. _No discipline_, Gale thought. Rory, on the other hand, resented how distant and angry Gale had become.

The flirty receptionist was replaced by a miserable one, who barely gave Gale a second glance when they arrived for their appointment. He had decided to let Rory bask in the glow of his new admirers and slunk off a too-small chair off to the side of the room. Gale's nerves were stretched pretty thin after his first session with the base shrink. _Post traumatic stress my ass_, he thought. _Let me go shoot something and then I won't be stressed_, he griped. The muscles in his back and neck were tight, which only added to his discomfort.

When his name was called, Rory reluctantly extricated himself from the gaggle of girls. Gale silently trailed behind; not only had he promised his mother that he would make sure Rory went to the infirmary, he now had to make sure he actually got the shot. The receptionist, a razor-thin, elderly woman named Mona, was intently reading an article about the Bubonic Plague and barely acknowledged them as they shuffled by her, Gale's trademark scowl firmly in place.

* * *

"Well, we meet again, Soldier Hawthorne," Madge said, as she entered the examination room. She smiled briefly at Gale, who found his scowl slowly replaced by a smile. He suddenly found himself looking at Madge as he never had before. _She doesn't look right_, he thought as he again folded himself in to yet another too-small chair. There was a hint of dark circles under her eyes and she looked tight as a bow string.

Slim folder in hand, she sat down in front of Rory and smiled at him. "Hi, I don't know if you remember me, but I'm from D-12 too. I'm Madge," she introduced herself to her young patient. "It says here that you stepped on a rusty nail?" she asked. Rory was stunned speechless. _"I don't know if you remember me?"_ he thought. Not remember the mayor's daughter? Rory could only nod at the beautiful woman who gently removed his shoe and was now examining where the rusty nail had punctured his foot earlier that day. After a cursory examination of the wound, Madge left the room to get the tetanus shot and supplies to clean and properly bandage Rory's wound.

Rory let out a low wolf whistle and said, "Damn, I should step on rusty nails more often!" Gale glared at him and smacked him in the back of the head. "That is Madge UNDERSEE, dumbass," he snarled. "Mind your manners," he added. He didn't like the way his brother was looking at Madge, but he couldn't quite put his finger on why.

* * *

When Madge returned to the room, she immediately began working on Rory. The young woman was effectively ignoring Gale, so he allowed himself to really look at her. Madge wore the same drab gray dress as last time, but she had repaired the ripped pocket. He could tell that she had done it herself by the uneven, awkward stitches and, for some reason, he was proud of her for that. She wore sensible, flat black shoes and worn woolen black tights, which did little to disguise her long, shapely legs. A standard issue medical personnel watch and tiny silver stud earrings were her only jewelry. _No wedding or engagement ring_, Gale observed. Her golden hair was pulled back in to a low ponytail, but some stray wisps framed her face. There were definitely dark circles under her baby blue eyes and she looked pale. He could tell that her smile and cheery demeanor were forced. Gale Hawthorne knew tense and this woman was wound pretty darn tight.

Madge quickly drew up the medication from the glass vial and gathered up the necessary supplies, including a pair of stainless steel crutches. She directed all of her comments to Rory, treating him like an adult. This also impressed Gale. When Gale was Rory's age, he hated when the adults talked about him as though he wasn't even there. He swore that when he was the adult, he would never do that. It looked as though Madge was a kindred spirit in that respect.

"I'm so glad that you had the good sense to come in here, Rory," Madge said as she prepared his bicep for the shot. "Tetanus is nothing to play around with," she added, as she grimly described results of untreated tetanus in excruciating detail. She explained to him about lockjaw and the muscle spasms, which become worse as the disease takes hold. "These convulsions can be so severe that they can fracture the spine," she said. _She knows her stuff_, Gale thought.

At this point Gale almost thought Rory might already have lockjaw, because the teenager was rendered mute the minute Madge touched him. All he could do was simply nod his head violently, as he hung on to the pretty nurse's every word. Rory didn't even flinch when she gave him the shot; simply smiling like an idiot as Madge gently patted his arm and praised him for his bravery.

Madge handed the discharge instructions to Rory, but she acknowledged Gale at this point. "Rory, you're going to be a little sore around the injection site, so here is some acetaminophen," she said. Madge gave them extra supplies and told them how often to change the dressing. Rory was hanging on her every word, which made Gale smirk. Madge detailed some of the other potential side effects and made sure that the brothers understood the signs of an allergic reaction. Rory was still mute and could only nod his head, leaving Gale to handle the rest of the paperwork.

* * *

"No hair ribbon, Undersee?" Gale asked teasingly, as Madge began cleaning up her table. She tensed up suddenly and slammed the box of 4x4s down on the table. The calm, cool nurse was gone and a very angry woman replaced her. Madge was eye level with Gale now that he was sitting down. She whirled around to glare at Gale, knocking the table hard. For the first time in a long while, Gale was afraid.

"Madge. MY. NAME. IS. MADGE," she ground out, eyes blazing. "Not Undersee. Not Princess. Not Blondie. It's Madge," she spat. "While we're at it, wipe that stupid smirk off your face! These discharge instructions are important, the least you could do is pretend like you give a damn if your brother's foot gets infected," she yelled. Madge was on a roll and everything came out. "I'm a damn good nurse and I work my ass off here. I'm not a princess! I take care of myself! My father isn't here to give me ribbons anymore," she yelled.

Rory gasped, which snapped Madge out of her rage. It was then that she suddenly realized that the saline had spilled from the table and contents of the box of 4x4s, gauze and ointment were right in the middle of the puddle. The precious supplies were ruined and she was horrified by her own behavior. Madge suddenly dropped to her knees to clean up the mess and attempt to regain her dignity.

Gale hadn't meant to upset her, but he could tell he had touched a nerve. He wanted the ground to swallow him whole. _Why did I say that?_ He mentally berated himself. Gale knelt down to help her clean up and gently took hold of her elbow. "Madge," he started. When she didn't look at him, he put his finger under her chin and turned her head towards him. He could see that she had tears in her blue eyes and that she was struggling to maintain her composure. "I'm sorry. You're right; I should call you by your name. You ARE a good nurse and I can tell that you work hard here," as he pulled her up in to a standing position and then sat her in the chair. Gale briefly turned to Rory and nodded towards the door, before he finished cleaning up the mess.

"Um, thank you for the extra supplies and for the information, Madge," Rory said as he hopped down from the examination table. "I promise I'll keep my foot clean and everything," he added as he hobbled out to the waiting room on his new crutches, leaving Gale and Madge alone. Something else was going on between his brother and the nurse and Rory was not about to stick around and find out.

* * *

Gale scooped up the last of the ruined supplies and dropped them in the trash can. He returned to his kneeling position in front of the silent, shattered woman and gently took her hands in his. The tension had been replaced by an awkward silence, which was just as bad as far as Gale was concerned. The floor was hard and his knees were killing him in this position, but he didn't care. He could easily see Madge's eyes from this vantage and he didn't want to look away. She needed someone and he desperately wanted it to be him.

"It's just that you had—have—such beautiful hair and you always had such pretty ribbons in your hair when we were kids," Gale said quietly, trying to explain himself. Madge closed her eyes for a few seconds, collecting herself. "That was a very long time ago," she whispered and her gaze returned to the floor.

"I'm sorry about your parents," he said softly. "I don't think I've ever had the chance to tell you that. Your father was a good man," he added. It was true. Mayor Undersee was a fair man who had done his level best to protect them from the Capital. Like so many other good people in District 12, he did the best he could with what he had to work with. "I know he would be really proud of you, Madge," Gale said, sincerely.

With that last statement, Madge looked up and met Gale's intense gaze. "Today would have been his 65th birthday," she said, slowly. "It feels good to say it out loud, to say it to someone who actually knew him and appreciated how hard he tried," she added. Gale could see the tension lift a bit and she almost smiled. "My father called me his princess and he always said 'Princesses should have pretty things.' He was the one who gave me the ribbons and he's gone and so are they," she said. Gale realized what he had done, albeit unintentionally. "I'm nobody's princess now," she whispered, as the tears began to fall.

Instinctively, he took Madge in his arms, enveloping her in a hug. She cried as Gale held her. _This feels right_, Gale thought. When she was done crying, a gentle smile lit up her features. It was a true smile, a real one and Gale felt good. Madge kissed him on the cheek and whispered, "thank you," before leaving the room for her next patient.

* * *

Gale meandered out to the waiting room to collect Rory. He even chuckled when he saw that Rory was being held hostage by Mona, who was regaling him with her "brush with death" at the hands of "that incompetent boob, Neptune."

"Come on bro, you know this place better than I do and I need your help with something," Gale said as he rescued Rory from the evil clutches of Mona the Miserable. Rory smiled at him and Gale knew that they were going to be OK.

At the end of the day, Mona handed Madge an envelope addressed to "Miss Madge Undersee." Inside it was a 5 yard reel of 3/8" light blue silk ribbon with a note. It said:

_Madge,_

_You'll always be a princess to me and your dad was right, princesses should have pretty things._

_Until next time,_

_Gale_

###


	3. Chapter Three: Influence

**Chapter Three: Influence**

_**A/N: **_Thanks to RoryFaller and Belle 543 for their betas and all of their great suggestions. As always, thank you to Swishy Willow Wand for her brilliant initial idea.

_**Disclaimer: **_I do not own the HG trilogy or any of the characters created by Suzanne Collins, although I sure wish I did.

The word _Influenza_ comes from the Italian language, meaning "influence" and refers to the cause of the disease; initially, this ascribed illness to unfavorable astrological influences. Changes in medical thought led to its modification to _influenza del freddo_, meaning "influence of the cold."

**LGIAS**

When Mona the Miserable actually WAS sick, it took cajoling from the entire staff of the medical center to get her to actually seek treatment. It was pneumonia that sent her packing, so severe that it scared even the professional hypochondriac. Mona resigned soon after she recovered, stating, "I can't be around all of those sick people." She was promptly hired for telephone triage at the Mental Health Hotline. Madge and the rest of the staff promptly removed that particular phone number from the list of community support services that they provided their patients.

Mona's replacement was a soft spoken, high strung man in his late forties named Tan. Before the war, Tan had been a motivational speaker who espoused something called "the power of positive thinking." What he lacked in charm and skill, he made up for in dogged determination and he still had a small group of devoted followers. Everyone had to have a job in D-13 and purveyor of positivity didn't quite cut it in the new government of Panem. Tan was assigned to the medical wing and he relished the challenge of "infusing optimism" in to such a "pessimistic space."

Madge didn't think that Tan looked like he could influence anyone to do anything, except maybe run away from him. Tan was an emaciated little man with bad breath and crooked, yellow teeth. Tan's pale, pasty face contrasted with his shock of curly, red hair and he was never without a tight, slightly insane looking smile. The man was constantly mumbling things like "I produce wonderful work" and "I radiate tranquility." "I know what I want," was his current favorite. Madge knew exactly what she wanted: a receptionist that didn't make her nuts.

It was the beginning of flu season and the medical center was THE place to be. "I am calm and in control," was Tan's newest mantra, but it didn't seem to be helping. Tranquil Tan was nowhere to be seen on this particular morning. It turned out that Tan didn't handle the fast-placed environment that was the front desk in the midst of flu season well and appeared on the verge of a complete and total nervous breakdown when Madge arrived for her shift. The fact that Tan was long past due for a haircut didn't help matters, as his hair took on a life of its own and Tan looked like a wild man. Madge was inspired to avoid the front desk at all costs. She grabbed her assignment and headed for her locker.

**LGIAS**

When Madge actually looked at her assignment, she groaned when she saw the name "Hawthorne, Vick."He was 12 years old, so he would most likely be accompanied by his eldest brother, as had his two siblings. She had not seen Gale Hawthorne since his last visit with Rory, and it wasn't for lack of trying.

Spurred by one of Tan's quotes of the day, ("If you do what you've always done, you always get what you have always gotten.") Madge had reached out to Gale with a note to thank him for comforting her on her father's birthday and his surprising gift of the silk ribbon. The ribbon touched her more than anything else and she thought of both her father and Gale when she fixed her hair each morning.

When she received no response to her note, she impulsively went to his office. It was a bold, forward move for Madge, totally out of character for the reserved young woman. Madge was crushed when she was told by another officer that Captain Hawthorne was far too busy to see her. The disgust in his voice told her that Gale really wasn't busy and that he thought Gale was an idiot. She left before the underling could get her phone number, which she suspected wouldn't be for Gale.

Madge wasn't exactly surprised when she heard nothing from him in the days following. Initially, she was hurt and angry. Now she was almost relieved. The last thing she needed in her life was a mass of contradictions like Gale Hawthorne. Madge didn't need any more chaos in her perfectly ordered world. Maybe she would let Phoebe set her up on a date with her brother, the cook. Madge briefly toyed with trading off the assignment to Juno, but decided against it. Madge Undersee was not a coward and she was going to face this head on. She would politely thank him and get on with doing her job.

To say that Madge was shocked when she saw that it was Hazelle Hawthorne who accompanied Vick that morning was an understatement.

"Honey, it's so good to see you," Hazelle gushed, as she enveloped Madge in a warm hug. Madge thought it felt like Heaven. "You've cast quite a spell over my children, my dear. Vick actually ASKED to come here to get his flu shot from you, instead of having it at school," she whispered in Madge's ear.

Madge momentarily struggled to construct a coherent sentence as she suddenly remembered the last time she had spoken to Hazelle. It was after Gale was whipped and Madge had delivered the morphling on the cold, winter night. Madge had told herself that she had done it for Katniss, because Gale was so important to her. Madge had told herself that she helped Gale because she was simply trying to right a wrong; the thought of a 16-year-old boy being punished for simply trying to feed his family didn't sit well with her. If she was totally honest with herself, there was more to it than that, although she wasn't sure what "something more" was. Hazelle had always been kind to Madge, even before the morphling and she never failed to give Madge an update on Gale's progress in those scary days after the whipping. Madge wasn't one to forget a kindness.

As Hazelle released Madge, Vick made his presence known. "Posy and Rory said you're nice and that you give good shots. If I gotta get one, I want it from you," he said. Vick left out how pretty they said she was, or that Rory said that Madge had actually made Gale smile. Making Gale smile these days was a miracle in and of itself.

Once again, Madge was gob smacked as she looked at her young patient. A 12-year-old boy asking to get a shot? That was unheard of. "Well, I try not to hurt anyone, Vick," Madge mumbled and she quickly looked at his chart. "It looks like you are caught up with all of your other shots, so all we have to do is the flu shot," she said. This would be a quick visit, because the supplies were already in the room. This made Madge sad.

Vick looked so much like Gale, minus the scowl. The similarities ended with their appearance, because Vick had a friendly, carefree air about him which Gale never possessed. He chatted easily as Madge asked him about school and how he was adjusting to life in D-13. Vick had inherited his mother's beautiful, ready smile and Madge instantly liked him.

"That's a pretty ribbon, Madge," Hazelle said. Madge was in the process of injecting Vick and she briefly paused. "Thank you," Madge said, in a voice that was stronger than she felt at the moment. _Does she know it was from her son,_ Madge wondered.

**LGIAS**

"I think the person who gave it to you must care about you a great deal," Hazelle said. "Some people send out mixed messages because they are going through a rough time and they need us to be patient with them," she added mysteriously.

Hazelle Hawthorne was not a woman to interfere in other people's lives, but she was tired of watching her eldest son push everyone who cared about him away. Gale needed his family and he needed Madge, whether he would admit it or not. When Posy and Rory told her about Gale's interaction with Madge during their visits, her interest was piqued. When she found the note from Madge in the pocket of his jacket, she was encouraged. But when she heard Gale telling Rory that he refused to see Madge when she came to the barracks, Hazelle knew that she had to do something. "She doesn't need to get mixed up with the likes of me," Gale had said, when Hazelle broached the subject. "I'm no good to anyone right now," was the sentence that spurred his mother to action.

It was no accident that she made the appointment for Vick at the same time Gale was meeting with his counselor for the post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). He was working through his troubles and was making good progress. Hazelle wanted to encourage Madge to not give up on Gale. But how would she accomplish this without betraying his trust?

**LGIAS**

"Are there any chairs in this district that are NOT meant for children?" Gale groused, as he lowered his tall frame in to yet another too-small chair.

Dax Jefferson's aged face bore a bemused smile. "So I hear you saying that the chairs are too small? How do you feel about that, Gale?"

Gale glared at him, although his annoyance quickly faded when he realized that the counselor was teasing him. Jefferson was a retired fellow soldier and Gale grudgingly smiled at the old artilleryman. If he had to do these counseling sessions, Gale was glad it was with a guy like Jefferson.

"So what's on your mind, Gale?" Jefferson inquired. He found it best with Gale to let him start the sessions.

"I've been spending more time with my family lately, trying to get to know them again," Gale started. It has been rough. Initially, he lost his temper over the smallest things, but that got better once he stopped drinking and started sleeping better. His nightmares were still there, but they were less frequent. He wasn't on edge all of the time now that he was seeing the counselor and Gale had to admit that he felt better.

His mother, Posy and Vick were the most tolerant and forgiving. Gale knew that he still had a lot to make up for, but he was seeing real progress on that front. Posy and Vick saw Gale as a hero and Gale never wanted to let them down. Jefferson had made Gale realize that it was OK to be their brother and that he didn't have to be their father. Gale felt as if the weight of the world had been removed from his shoulders.

Rory, on the other hand, had been a challenge initially. Once Gale stopped trying to be Rory's father and started opening up to his younger brother, they became closer than ever. Rory was surprisingly intelligent for a knucklehead. They had bonded again over a tetanus shot and a girl from home.

"A young lady?" Jefferson's eyebrows rose. He could tell from Gale's body language that this wasn't just any girl. "Go on," he encouraged.

Gale tentatively told Jefferson about his visits to the medical center with Posy and then again with Rory. For once, Gale was unguarded and he just kept going. He told the counselor about how he comforted Madge, about the time he spent with Rory scouring the market area for the frivolous blue silk ribbon and about how good it felt to help someone else. Then he stopped.

"There's more, isn't there?" Jefferson probed. He knew that this would be a turning point for Gale. He was like an animal about to step in the snare, only this snare would save Gale's life, not end it. He just had to lead Gale a little bit further.

"She wrote me a note, saying how grateful she was," he started. "Then she came to my office to see me," he whispered. He told Jefferson how he froze, hiding in his office behind the paperwork. How he sent Leech out to send her away. "The miscreant probably got her phone number and a date with her," Gale laughed, bitterly.

Jefferson knew they were in uncharted territory now. "Why do you think you did that Gale?" he started. "If she came to your office, she obviously wanted to see you, not Leech. Why did you really send her away?" he asked.

"Because she's a nice girl and she deserves better than the likes of me! She's a nurse, she's a good person and I'm…not," he finished helplessly. His self-loathing was back in full force. "I'm a craven coward, a killer of women and children, a bitter and angry waste of space, a drunk," he spat.

Jefferson hadn't seen this Gale since the early days of their counseling sessions. He had to bring Gale back from this, or he would spiral into the darkness again. Jefferson had an idea, but it was risky. This was going to be a make or break moment in his therapy.

"Well, I can see why you wouldn't want to get involved with her," Jefferson started. "She's obviously unbalanced and incredibly unprofessional. I mean, what kind of a nurse brings her personal issues in to the examination room and forces them on her patients? And then showing up at your office? Sounds like a stalker to me. You probably should report her," he said with all of the indignation he could muster. "And Rory, what kind of an idiot steps on a rusty nail and doesn't have the sense to get it check out right away?" he continued, until Gale interrupted him.

Gale was stunned. "No. Wait! You're wrong—it wasn't like that at all," he sputtered. "Rory is just a kid, he's just 14. And Madge didn't do anything wrong, she was having a bad day, that's all. She had lost her father, did I tell you that? It would have been his birthday and the ribbon…" Gale faltered, as a ghost of a smile reached Jefferson's lips.

"I know that Gale and I don't think that a bad person would have even known all of that about someone he hadn't seen in several years," Jefferson said. "If you cut Rory some slack and even Madge, why can't you do the same for yourself?" he asked. "Let me ask you something. When you saw that this young woman was upset, why did you comfort her? Why didn't you collect your brother and just walk away? You don't have to answer me. I just think that there is something there for you and maybe for her too."

With that, the timer dinged and the session ended. "Think about what we talked about Gale. You deserve to be happy, but you have to get out of your own way first," Jefferson said as he shook Gale's hand.

**LGIAS**

It was Vick who asked Madge to give Gale a chance, not Hazelle. After he received his shot, Vick asked his mother to leave the room because he wanted to talk to the nurse "in private." Hazelle graciously left the room, casting a worried glance over her shoulder. Madge steeled herself for answering questions about masturbation or some other uncomfortable adolescent topic and prayed her own embarrassment wouldn't show.

"Look, my brother is an idiot," Vick started, as he launched in to his tirade. "I'm talking about Gale now, not Rory, but he's an idiot too. Gale's head isn't right after the war. He has nightmares and he's seeing a counselor. Gale says he did some bad stuff during the war, but he's trying to make things right again. He's a good person and he's my brother. He's my BIG brother, Madge. He needs a friend and I think he likes you-we all like you. I think you can help him be like he was before the war. Will you try and help my brother? Please?" he ended, breathlessly.

Madge was taken aback. Gale was suffering from post-traumatic stress? She knew she shouldn't be surprised, because so many of the soldiers returning home did. She thought of another one of Tan's quotations: "You will soon break the bow if you keep it always stretched." Gale had carried the burden of supporting his family since he was Vick's age, he was bound to have trauma. At least Gale was getting help, although she suspected it wasn't entirely voluntary. "Of course I'll be his friend, Vick," she said. "And I like all of you too," she whispered. "Now let's get you back out there to your mother," Madge said, as she collected Vick's folder.

"When you see Gale, will you tell him that I took it like a man and didn't flinch?" Vick asked, as they entered the waiting room. "Why don't you tell me yourself, Big Guy?" came a deep voice around the corner. It was Gale, who was sitting in the waiting room next to Hazelle. Gale immediately stood up and crossed the room to where Madge and Vick stood. "Good job, Vick. I'm proud of you," Gale told Vick, as he ruffled the boy's hair. Vick basked in the praise and winked at Madge. "Come on ma, I gotta get back to school," he said, as he dragged a shocked Hazelle away.

Gale then turned to Madge and said "Hello, Madge." Madge could only smile back at him as he took her small hands in his large, calloused ones. "I'm really sorry that I couldn't see you the other day and that I didn't contact you sooner. I'm an ass. Can you forgive me? If you don't already have plans, can I make it up to you with dinner tonight?" Madge nodded and she was suddenly struck by the clarity of his beautiful grey eyes.

It was Tan who answered for Madge, loud and clear, "She's done at 5:30—that's 1730 soldier—and don't be late." Tan then returned to his attempt to impart some order to the chaos that was the front desk, effectively ignoring the curious stares he received.

"I'll see you then, Madge," Gale said, as he kissed each hand gently before leaving.

As Madge floated over away from the front desk with her next assignment, she felt the collective stare of the entire office staff. "What? He's a friend from home," she said, hoping that her face wasn't entirely crimson at this point.

###


End file.
